


Finding the Last

by vandevere



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Man of Steel (2013), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandevere/pseuds/vandevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dru Zod may be the galaxy's only hope.  If he can live long enough</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Finding the Last:A Man of Steel/Avengers/Agents of Shield Flip

Planet Krypton

“They’re heading for the Academy, Sir!”

“Adjust course and heading to match,” General Dru Zod kept a hand on the weapons console for balance as the ship trembled under his feet.

There had been plenty of indirect hits and near misses these last few minutes of the battle over Krypton. Now, the enemy was sending their ships to the Academy; and it was obvious the children were their next target. Zod rubbed his forehead tiredly.

The war was not going well for Krypton. The enemy had far more resources, and far more manpower than Krypton did.

Zod sighed…

It was only a few short years before that Jor El had convinced the Council of Krypton to send a scientific mission to one of the colony worlds that had been abandoned by Krypton during the period of Civil Wars of around thirty thousand years ago. All but one of those colony worlds had withered and died in the intervening years.

The Renan, however, had not. In fact, they had managed to thrive, and now held several systems in their sector of space. A burgeoning empire in the making…

In spite of the fact that the Renan had originally been fellow Kryptonians, the meeting had not gone well. The survivors of the Kryptonian scientific mission spoke of a technology capable of stealing a man’s mind.

Jax Ur had scoffed at the notion.

There was no science, he had said, that could destroy a man’s free will.

Jax was dead now, killed in the first strike on Krypton.

Jor El had returned with a Renan army at his back; and Zod, seeing him for the first time since his capture by the Renan, had to concede that Jax Ur was wrong; horribly and completely wrong.

Jor El was the one in command of the invading fleet; Jor El was the one ordering the destruction of Krypton, and Jor El was the one conducting this…war of extermination.

_Genocide_ …

Dru Zod no longer felt the grief he had at first. Jor El had been his best friend before; and many had thought it odd that Krypton’s greatest Warrior should form such a strong bond of friendship with what was perhaps Krypton’s most brilliant scientist. But they had.

Through all their lives that friendship had persisted and grown. Until now.

Now, with Jor El no longer truly Jor El…

The Winged Victory was now in range of the ships threatening the Academy.

“Fire all weapons,” he commanded. “Bring those Renan ships down.”

_Maybe we can give the Academy a little extra time to evacuate_ …

Energy beams streaked out, seeking Renan targets.

“They’re returning fire,” Faora Ul announced.

“Brace for impact.”

Everything exploded around Zod, the force of it sending him flying. There was a sensation of freefall, then impact, the feeling of something snapping...

* * *

He hung in darkness, bereft of sensation…

_Regeneration cycle complete.  Initiating Neuro-sensory reintegration.  Subject ready for wake up procedure._

“General Zod…” That was Lor Em, head of the Council of Krypton.

_I'm...alive..?_

General Zod opened his eyes, blinking owlishly in the brilliant light of Medblock Central. He sat up, waited out the customary post-regen dizziness…

_Where are the others?  Where is Faora?_

He looked down at himself. Just the bodysuit.

“My armor…” his voice sounded rusty.

“We don’t have time,” Lor Em helped Zod to his feet.

“How bad is it?” Zod straightened as he looked down at the shorter man.

“The war is lost,” the Councilor admitted.

“The Academy?”

“Gone.”

Zod stopped dead at Lor Em’s blunt statement.

“The children…” he began

“All dead,” Lor Em turned and began to walk. “Forget the armor and follow me. We don’t have much time.”

He stepped outside, Zod following. It wasn't Medblock after all…

They were at the Tower of Council. Six other people were present; Faora Ul-relieved to see Zod alive and well-three front line fighters, and Lara Lor-Van…

Her clothing and hair were damp…

“Prepare the launch,” Lor Em commanded, and Lara nodded and set to work. Seeing her brought all the grief Zod had been holding at bay back.

_Her husband, my friend..._

_He is the enemy.  he killed the children at the Academy..._ …

He watched Lara prepare the launch.

“What are you planning?” Zod turned back to Lor Em.

“There’s no time to explain, sir,” Faora came up; holding-of all things-Zod’s Cloak of Command bunched in her arms.

“The Renan are on their way here,” she continued. “He is on his way here. They mean to kill off the last of us all.”

“We’re all that’s left?”

“Yes, sir,” Faora was trembling, and Zod really couldn’t blame her.

_This is it_ …

“Are you well, sir?” Faora asked. “You were wounded badly, and I was afraid you would die.”

“I am well,” Zod lay a gentle hand on Faora’s shoulder. “Certainly I am well enough for a last stand.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Before we make our Last Stand,” Lor Em spoke up. “A Farewell Toast?”

Zod’s throat tightened as Lor Em poured Rao Red Wine for everyone; including the three Front line fighters, who literally didn’t have the taste buds to appreciate what they were drinking. But it was the thought that counted…

Zod held his wine glass, watched as everyone else stood, facing Lor Em, who was holding his wine glass up.

“To the Last,” the Councilor intoned.

_To the Last_ …

Zod drained his glass. He wasn’t really all that fond of Rao Red; too syrupy sweet for his taste. But this was Krypton’s last day.

_To the Last_ …

“Faora, where’s my armor?”

He turned to her, saw…tears?

Tears, so out of place on her stern features.

“Faora?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” her voice trembled. “You won’t be needing your armor.”

The wine glass slipped from Zod’s suddenly numb fingers. He barely heard the shattering sound when it hit the floor. The floor was tilting…  _Everything_ was tilting…

_I've been drugged_ …

He felt someone catch him from behind as his legs buckled.

“Put him in the pod,” Lor Em instructed.

_The pod?_

“No…” Zod’s voice was slurred from the drug. “Let me stay and fight…”

Lor Em, and Lara Lor Van worked quickly, strapping him down, securing his arms and legs.

“Were you able to get it?” Lor Em asked Lara.

“Yes,” Lara held something, put it in place over Zod’s head, and he looked up at it, horrified as it hovered there.

_The Codex..._

It slowly disintegrated before his eyes, particles floating down to merge with his body. The entire Registry of Citizens was now inside him; and General Zod, who had been fully prepared to die, with hardly a thought, in a final stand with the last remnants of his army…

Now, he was terrified.

“It’s done,” Lara nodded sadly as she turned to Lor Em. Now, the Councilor was bending over him.

“I’m sorry Zod,” he said. “You’re the best and strongest of us. You’re the one best able to bear this burden. Remember what you were born and bred to do.”

_To protect Krypton.  To defend my people_ …

Lor Em laid a gentle hand on Zod’s chest.

“You are Krypton’s Protector,” he nodded. “You are Krypton. All that Krypton is, was, and ever shall be now lies within you. Now, your first duty is to _live_. You must live so that Krypton may live. Our hopes and prayers all go with you. Farewell, Zod…”

* * *

The drug was beginning to take General Zod down. Lara Lor-Van saw Zod’s eyes close, the always-tense muscles beginning to relax, and felt tears in the corners of her eyes.

_I'm sorry, Dru_ …

He was the only one tough enough to weather an uncertain future in an uncertain galaxy…

“His cloak, Faora,” Lara held out her hand.

_A little warmth against the darkness,_ she thought as she laid the cloak over Zod…

She kissed his forehead, wishing none of this had ever come to pass…

Dru and Jor had been friends, and he had thought Jor’s decision to go out and make contact with the Renan world was dangerous in the extreme. Zod told him not to go, but Jor did, and now all of Krypton was paying the price…

She closed the Pod.

“It’s ready,” she informed Lor Em.

“Initiate,” Lor Em ordered. Behind, she heard Faora gathering the three front line fighters, and heading out of the room.

_The Renan are here. **He** is here.  They're going to hold the Renan off, sacrifice their lives so we have time to send Dru away_

She pressed a control, and the Pod’s rockets fired; sending the Pod blasting upward.

_Be well, Dru_ , she prayed. _Find a safe place, and create Krypton anew; far away from here_ …

Behind, she heard the sound of battle, of men and women dying. She kept her eyes on the pod, rocketing upward.

_Away from here.  away from the monster my husband has become_ …

She had programmed the Pod’s on-board Phantom Drive to make a random selection from the Registry of Planets.

_We won't know where it's gone, so they won't be able to torture it out of us_ …

The battle behind had ended. Now, she could hear booted footsteps entering the room.

_I don't want to turn around, my love.  I don't want to see what they've done to you_ …

Steeling herself, Lara turned to face the invaders, saw Lor Em do the same.

Twelve faceless men, armored from head to foot, commanded by the thirteenth…

Physically, Jor El didn’t look any different than he had before; the same graying hair and beard, the same very blue eyes. But, all the soul, all the _life_ , had been sucked out of those blue eyes.

Jor El didn’t live there anymore…

The Pod’s Phantom Drive engaged just then, and it was gone, sending Dru Zod, and the Codex who knew where.

Jor El wasn’t really Jor El anymore. But he did have access to all his memories.

“I was expecting to see General Zod with Faora and the Fighters,” he said. “I assume you had him drugged, as that is the only way you could keep him from making that heroic last stand with the last remnants of his army?”

Lara bit her lip. Of course he would know that…

“And, I suppose you also put the Codex in the Pod with him,” Jor El continued. “One surefire way to keep Krypton alive when all else is lost…”

He strode up to her, and it took all she had not to back away from him.

“Where did you send him?”

Now, she could smile.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“You…don’t know?”

“The Drive made a random selection from the Complete Registry of Planets”

There were literally hundreds of millions of planets that fell within “habitable range” for Kryptonians.

“I don’t know where Dru Zod is,” she said. “But he’s far away from you, and it will take you forever to find him.  _If_ you can find him.”

Jor El stood there in silence, head tilted slightly, communing with his…superiors. Then he drew the blaster at his hip.

“For the Renan,” he intoned. “For the Judgment.” The blaster fired twice, and two bodies slumped to the floor.

* * *

The Pod streaks on, the Phantom Drive taking it, and its infinitely precious cargo, ever onward, in search of an acceptable world.

Not a perfect world. Not another Krypton. Not yet.

For now, all it needs is to be an acceptable world, one Zod can live and breathe on; and it needs to be an  _inhabited_ world, one with people who look exactly like Kryptonians. Dru Zod is the Last. And, above all other things, he needs to disappear…


	2. A simple Diplomatic Outreach Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's 2014, and Phil Coulson gets to go to another planet for the first time in his life

_2014_

The last few years had seen quite a few changes in Phil Coulson’s life; not the least of which was the quite literal new lease on life he had been granted…

_Tahiti, my ass_ …

Coulson had been killed during the Battle of New York. Not merely dead, he had been really most sincerely dead.

An alien serum of unknown provenance had brought him back, and Coulson was still of two minds on the issue. He was glad to be alive, but he had seen the potential side-effects of this serum at close hand in John Garrett. Now, he lived in daily worry that the same megalomaniac behavior would eventually cloud his mind.

John Garrett…

The man had been Hydra all along; along with another, a one-time member of Coulson’s team. Grant Ward.

That had especially hurt.

_We let Ward in, made him one of us_.

He had betrayed them, almost killed Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons.

In the end, Hydra had been defeated. John Garrett-AKA the Clairvoyant-was dead; and, Grant Ward was going to spend the rest of his miserable life in a cell so deep and dark, he would never see the light of the Sun again.

As for Coulson’s team, they were slowly rebuilding themselves back into a team.

Skye was, as usual, her usual sardonic self, but she was shaping up to be one hell of an agent. Leo Fitz was fully recovered from his brush with death, and Dr. Jemma Simmons over-joyed to have him back again. They were a bit of a pair, those two…

Antoine Triplett, once part of Garrett’s team, before it was discovered Garrett was Hydra, was now part of Coulson’s team. And, there was Melinda May…

The Cavalry would always be part of Coulson’s team. He and she simply went too far back for it to be any other way.

Director Nick Fury had quite the task in rebuilding Shield after the…war…was over. Fortunately, he had friends in high places.

_Very_ high places…

Odin, Thor’s Father.  The King of the Asgardians had decreed that Earth should have a strong agency that depended on no earthly government for support.

Quite the relief, that…

_The United states government was this close to dismantling us_ …

So, now Shield was being bankrolled largely by Asgard, and Phil Coulson’s team had been given some new toys…

_We have a genuine starship_ …

It came with something called a _Phantom Drive_ , legacy of a civilization that had been destroyed thirty to forty years ago.

Eventually, Earth would become a full member of the culture that, for better or worse, was beginning to form across the galaxy. For now, though, all the technological marvels were being guarded by Shield…

This starship-officially dubbed Home II-was wonderful.

“All the comforts of the Enterprise-D,” Skye had murmured, Fitz and Simmons nodding in agreement.

It also came with a small crew, most of which were native Asgardians; with the exception of Drudge…

Drudge-real name unknown-topped ten feet in height, was almost as broad as he was tall. Funnily enough, Drudge and May got along like a house on fire.

Then, it was time for Home II’s first mission, and Phil Coulson found himself visiting an alien world…

_A diplomatic outreach mission_ , Nick Fury had called it.

The planet, Tarbhan III, was under the threat of imminent invasion by a polity calling itself the Renan Empire, and Fury had decided the Renan bore careful watching. Earth had already suffered one attempted alien invasion, was still cleaning up after it…

_WE don't need more alien menaces_ …

Space, it had turned out, was way more populous, and dangerous, than previously expected.

The diplomatic outreach mission hadn’t gone well…

“This is just…wonderful!” Antoine Triplett snarled as he paced back and forth in the cell the Tarbhani had dumped him, Drudge, and Coulson in…

Coulson merely shrugged. He’d been in sticky situations like this before.

It was the cell’s fourth inhabitant that left him feeling distinctly uneasy…

“Don’t worry yourselves about him,” the Tarbhani guard had said. “He is a gift for the Renan Voice. Through him we shall buy the goodwill of the Renan; and he shall be gone on the morrow. Pay him no mind…”

_Pay him no mind?_

Coulson wasn’t sure he could ignore the prisoner. He, whoever he was, had been laid out, like a mummy, on one of the stone slabs that passed for a bed; and no wonder…

Coulson had never seen so many chains, such heavy-looking chains, in his life; chains binding the prisoner’s arms together, binding his legs together, even more lengths of chains wound about his body, completely immobilizing him.

There was also this…metallic hood of sorts, covering his head, eyes, and mouth.

_Can he even breathe?_

Coulson bent over, checking for signs of life. The man was breathing, tiny little gasps; his body trembling…

_The chains_ …

There was some sort of energy-field interwoven through the chains, crackling through each and every single link of chain.

_What...the...hell..?_

Coulson couldn’t even begin to imagine the agony the prisoner had to be experiencing.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Triplett exploded.

“Be patient,” Coulson straightened from examining the faceless prisoner. The Tarbhani hadn’t really searched him, or the other two. They had confiscated their weapons, but otherwise left the trio untouched. Coulson’s watch gave a discreet beep.

He brought it to his lips.

“That you, Skye?”

“It’s me,” Skye’s voice was tinny, but clear. “I’m in their computer now. Gimme a sec…”

The prison-cell door gave a series of clicks. Then it slid open.

“All right!” Triplett began to move.

“Wait…” Coulson was looking down at the metal-masked prisoner, weighted down by all those chains.

“We can’t leave him behind,” he looked up at Triplett. “They’re going to give him to the Renan. As a gift, the guard said.”

“We don’t have the time to get those chains off,” Triplett looked down at the prisoner too.

“He can’t walk with all of that,” the man continued. “I can’t carry him. Can you?”

Coulson tried. He really tried. But it was like trying to lift a semi one-handed.

_Wish the Hulk were here_ …

But that would’ve carried its own measure of complications.

“I can lift him,” Drudge spoke up. “It will be heavy, but I can do it.”

“Bless you, Drudge…”

Coulson bent over the prisoner, hoping the universal translator would work.

“We’re going to take you with us,” he said. “We’ll get those chains off when there’s time.”

No response, but then he wasn’t really expecting one.

Drudge bent, lifted the prisoner, lengths of chain and all, and slowly hauled him over a shoulder. He stood there, the prisoner awkwardly draped over an impossibly wide shoulder.

“Very heavy,” he nodded. “But I can do it.”

Coulson nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Skye’s hacking abilities had caused total chaos with the Tarbhani computer systems. The escapees met with no guards until they neared the exit. That forced Coulson to rethink things.

They ran down another hall…

“Great,” Triplett muttered. “A dead end…”

Coulson’s watch beeped again. This time, it was Fitz…

"The hall you’re in,” he said. “The wall at the end is an outside wall. May wants to blast it down.”

Drudge had put the prisoner down, holding him up with one massive paw as he looked at the man’s back.

“What have you found?” Coulson walked up to him.

“I think I have found the best place to short out the energy field,” Drudge’s hand pointed out two very heavy-looking links of chain.

“Coulson,” he continued. “If I pull one link, and you the other, we should be able to break the connection.”

“And get the shock of our lives…” Coulson nodded.

“There is that,” Drudge was grinning.

Coulson sighed, bent over the prisoner.

“We’re going to try to short out the energy field,” he said. “Just hang on, all right?”

The chained figure gave the slightest of nods.

“Okay,” Coulson turned his attention to the chain links. “Let’s do this”

He grabbed one chain, Drudge the other.

“On three,” he said; Dredge nodded. “One…two…three!”

**ZZZT!**

“Ow…”

Coulson slowly sat up from where he had landed, saw Drudge do the same.

The prisoner’s chains still held, but the energy field was gone. The man seemed to shudder, shoulders shrugging convulsively, and suddenly it was raining links of chain…

His arms came free first, then his legs. Now, he crawled forward, on hands and knees. Then, kneeling, he reached back, both hands scrabbling at the back of his neck.

There came this screeching, grinding sound; and Coulson was a moment recognizing that sound.

_Rending Metal.  He's tearing that metal hood like it's made of cotton_ …

The man tore the hood off, hurled it to one side, and it clattered against the wall with an ungodly racket.

Now, he knelt there, head bowed, breathing raggedly.

Long dark hair, matted and tangled…grizzled beard…strong-boned features…

Coulson crept up to him.

“You all right?”

The eyes, dark and commanding, opened, flicked briefly in Coulson’s direction, then back to the wall. He lifted a hand, placed it on Coulson’s shoulder. Then, very gently, he pushed Coulson off to one side, his eyes beginning to glow with a hot light.

_Okay...That's new..._

Lasers, real honest-to-god lasers stabbed out of the man’s eyes, focused on the dead end wall at the end of the hall.

“Huh…” Coulson grunted as the wall fell outward, letting in brilliant sunlight.

Drudge stared at the man with eyes wide in awe. “Kryptonian…”

The man went still at Drudge’s remark, and Coulson knew that stillness.

_The stillness of the prey faced by the predator_ …

“Don’t mind Drudge,” he spoke to the man, and the man’s gaze swung to him, intense eyes searching his face; for what, Coulson had no idea…

“Let’s get out of here,” Coulson helped the man to his feet.

Then, they were all running, Coulson keeping a steadying hand on the man.

“Stop! Or we’ll shoot!” A full troop of guards was there, commanded by the Captain of the guard, all armed with blasters.

“The rest of you may leave,” the Captain said. “But  _he_ belongs to us.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Coulson brought up his wrist unit. “Now, May”

Everyone heard the engine-rumble, and there the jet was, coming out of nowhere. It hovered overhead, weapons pods activated and ready.  Coulson glanced back at the hovering jet, brought his eyes back to the Tarbhani.

“I don’t want a fight,” he spoke conversationally. “And you don’t want one either. Let us leave, and we’ll call it quits, okay?”

The Tarbhani Captain hesitated, looking up at the jet. Then, shoulders slumping in defeat, he turned, barking orders at his men. As they dispersed, he turned back to Coulson.

“You do not know what you have done to my people,” he said. “With him, we were going to secure the good will of the Renan. Take him then, and pray the Renan never come to you.”

Then, he was gone. Coulson looked at the man he was still supporting.

_What are you?_

Too late for that now…

“Okay, people,” Coulson turned to the jet. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

“ _Another_ stray?”

Dru Zod heard the woman’s voice before he saw her, occupied as he was with merely keeping on his feet.

_That energy field took more out of me than I thought..._

She was striking to look at, tall and athletic, and Zod was reminded of Faora Ul, dead these last thirty-five years.

“Coulson, she chided. “Why do you keep on picking up strangers?”

“I couldn’t leave him behind,” the man supporting him-Coulson?-said.

“Fury isn’t going to like this.”

“I’ll handle Fury. Just get us home…”

Zod was led to a comfortable seat as the jet took off.

Coulson.

_He saved my life..._

Since the destruction of Krypton, Dru Zod had been forced to eke out a precarious existence out on the margins of society. The burden he bore was too important.

Some years back, he had found a job-as a hired gun-with the captain of a freighter. They were all good people; especially the engineer-Zod had never known anyone with so sunny a disposition…

But that freighter captain’s business wasn’t entirely legal.

_Smugglers..._

Eventually, they had gotten pinched by the Tarbhani Law Enforcement. But Zod wasn’t really sure their smuggling activities were the reason for the arrests…

He had been taken down by a Neuronic Blaster; and that spoke volumes…

_They knew I was Kryptonian.  Any other weapon would have been virtually useless..._

No surprise, then, to see the Renan in the area.

_They still want me.  The Renan want every last trace of Krypton erased off the face of the universe._

Zod had heard the stories of how the Renan had blasted Krypton’s core apart. They had even destroyed the planet itself.

_They want **nothing** of Krypton to survive_ …

If it hadn’t been for this…Coulson…the Renan would have succeeded. They would have killed the _Last_ ; and destroyed the secret burden he carried.

Zod ached all over, feeling bruised in every part of his body.

Less than an hour later, they were docked at this starship, and heading home.

_Whatever **Home** is for these people_ …

“I’d like our doctor to look you over,” Coulson had said. “Looks like they put you through hell. I’m Phil Coulson, by the way.”

“Yes,” Zod nodded. But he wasn’t ready to offer his name in return. People had a tendency to die when he gave his name.

“When you’re feeling better,” Coulson smiled.

“Simmons,” he stopped at what looked a lot like a medical station. “You have a patient.”

Simmons was this delicate-looking little thing with sweet eyes.

“Look him over,” Coulson commanded. “See that he’s well.”

With that, Zod was left alone with her.

“You’ve been hurt,” she exclaimed; and her voice was like birdsong; all sweet trills…

Dru Zod found himself letting her touch him; gentle hands flitting across his chest and back; small, but surprisingly strong fingers clasping his wrist to take his pulse.

As she worked, she chattered on, talking about her friends, and Zod felt his twisted-taut nerves uncoil under the soothing sound of her voice.

_What a sweet little bird_ …

“You should lie down and get some sleep,” she told him. “The trip to Earth will take a couple of days.”

So, she led him to a bedroom. It looked comfortable enough. But there were no windows…

Zod stopped dead in his tracks. The thought of sleeping in that windowless room made him break out in a cold sweat. It was too…too…

“Too much like a prison cell?”

There was compassion in Simmons’ voice.

That was it, Zod realized.

Like a prison cell…

He bowed his head, deeply ashamed.

_I used to be stronger than this_ …

“I know what to do!” Simmons smiled brightly as she stepped into the room. She came out again with two pillows and a blanket.

“Follow me,” she said. She led him to the Common Area, with the huge floor-to-ceiling windows-or were they view screens?

Either way, the view of the starry void was stupendous. Sofas lay flush against the windows, each sofa long and wide. Long enough, and wide enough, for a man to lie down on.

“I like to sleep here sometimes,” Simmons plumped the pillows, laid them down on a sofa, with the blanket.

“Think you could sleep here?” she asked him.

Zod looked at the sofa, at the window, with its staggering view.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I think I could.”

_Bless you, Little Bird_ …

* * *

Down in the Council Room, Phil Coulson was enjoying a well-earned coffee; Melinda May and Drudge likewise sitting at the large table.

“Okay, Drudge,” he put his mug down. “You called him a Kryptonian. What’s that all about? Wasn’t Krypton destroyed some time ago?”

“About thirty-five years ago,” Drudge nodded. “The Renan killed them all, and destroyed the planet too. But there have always been rumors of a survivor.”

“One of them escaped?”

“That’s what the stories say, Coulson. I didn’t believe the stories, though. Until today. You saw what he did with his eyes.”

“What did he do with his eyes?” Melinda May demanded.

“Lasers from his eyes,” Drudge replied. “Like blasters. It’s a thing only Kryptonians could do, so he must be one of them.”

May turned to Coulson.

“You  _let_ him on the ship?” she was incredulous.

“He needed help,” Coulson said. “They were going to give him to the Renan, like he was property. I couldn’t leave him like that.”

“Hope this one doesn’t bite us on the ass…” May muttered darkly.

Coulson couldn’t really blame her. She didn’t let people in easily. She had let Grant Ward in…

_And that had turned out **so** , well, hadn't it?_

He had to admit, she did have a point there. But Coulson knew what kind of fate had been awaiting their new guest. It would have been an agonizing death; and Coulson couldn’t abandon anyone to that.

Still, he supposed May was right.

_Fury is going to kill me_ …

The meeting over, Coulson stepped into the Common Area, saw the man asleep on one of the sofas…

“Shh…” Simmons approached him, fingers to her lips.

“Why is he sleeping here?” he asked her. “The Secure Bedroom is perfectly fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Simmons spoke firmly. “No windows.”

“Windows?” Coulson arched an eyebrow. “The point is that he can be kept under observation-“

“I know,” Simmons held up a hand. “But you didn’t see him when he saw the room. He went white, sir; to the gills. He needs to feel… _safe_ , sir. Not like a prisoner.”

Coulson nodded. He could see it. The man looked like he had been living on the edge; for far too long.

“How’s his physical condition?”

“I can’t really say,” Simmons said. “It’s hard to establish a baseline for him. Would you like to guess his weight?”

Coulson glanced at the sleeping man. He was tall, around six-foot-four, and lean, almost thin in fact.

“Maybe one seventy wringing wet?”

“Would you believe just a tad over six hundred?”

“Six hundred _pounds_?” Coulson’s eyes went wide.

“No,” he finally said. “That’s impossible!”

“Not if he came from a world with a heavier gravity,” Drudge had joined them. “Krypton is-was-such a world. I tell you that is where he came from.”

“All right,” Coulson held up a hand. “We’re going home anyway. This can keep until then.”

Nick Fury could sort all of this out…

* * *

The Tarbhani Guard captain wondered why he wasn’t terrified. He had been brought to the Consul’s estate after the prisoners had made their escape. Now, both he and the Consul lay flat on their faces before the Voice of the Renan Lord Paramount. There were dark rumors that this Voice was merely that, and no more; a shell of a man with no will but that of his Renan masters.

Seeing those empty blue eyes, the Captain believe the rumors. Those eyes had remained empty; even as he did the most horrible things; killing the Consul’s two eldest children.

_and me_ …

He lay there, quietly bleeding out on the priceless carpet in the Consul’s Receiving Room, both lower legs blown out for the crime of letting one single prisoner get away. Yet, the Captain saw, with perfect clarity, that none of this was the blue-eyed man’s fault.

Somewhere, deep inside, there was a soul, begging, screaming for release.

_I cannot hate you, cannot revile you_. _All I can do is pray for you, with my last breaths_ , _as I pray for us all_. _That someone will come, someone who can free us all_ ;  _someone who will break the Renan Yoke..._


	3. Finding the Last Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zod meet Nick Fury

_Krypton, thirty-six years ago_

“It’s going to be a glorious adventure of scientific endeavor!”

Jor El was gleeful as he poured wine for himself and his guest.

“Uh-huh…” Dru Zod accepted a glass. Kamar Gold, a dry white wine very much to his taste.

“You’re not excited, Dru?” Zod shrugged.

“Just my natural pessimism expressing itself,” he finally said. “There are so many ways this could go wrong.”

“Wrong? Dru, they’re Kryptonians; just like us.”

“Exactly,” Zod set his glass down. “Just like us.”

He paused for a bit.

“Besides,” he spoke again. “We abandoned their colony when the Civil Wars started, left them to fend for themselves. That they survived at all is entirely due to them.”

“But have you seen what they’ve done?” Jor El’s eyes were alight. “They’ve done more than merely survive. They’ve expanded outward, something we have forgotten to do. They haven’t lost their drive to advance; and you say you don’t want us to go?”

“No, Jor” Zod met his friend’s eyes. “We need to be cautious.”

“But-“

“I know you have high hopes, Jor; and if you’re right, these Renan may be just what you need to force Krypton to look outward again. But I was trained to look for how things could go wrong. And they _could_ …badly.”

There had already been some…observation done on the sly. The Renan were descendants of Kryptonians, so it was easy to slip Kryptonian observers in with no one the wiser, and their reports had been…unsettling.

“Jor,” Zod spoke urgently. “Their main holiday isn’t a festive one. It’s a day of grim remembrance. They call it the Day of Betrayal, and it memorializes the day they were abandoned by Krypton. By _us_. They have been observing this Day of Betrayal for over thirty thousand years. _Never forgive, never forget_. And you want to drop in on them and say, _Hi, I'm from Krypton.  Can we be friends?_ ”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jor El protested.

“Nothing,” Zod spoke dryly. “But I want you to understand one thing. They haven’t forgotten us.”

Jor El led his expedition to the Renan World a few months later; and the rest was, as the saying went, history…

* * *

_Present day_

Dru Zod opened his eyes. Wrapped up in a warm blanket, soft pillows under his head, he had no idea where he was. The last few weeks had been a blur of agony and fear.

But, now, he remembered…

A man called Phil Coulson had saved his life.

_He didn't know me, who or what I was, but he rescued me, and took me away from my captors_ …

“Good morning.”

There Phil Coulson was, looking rested, sipping something hot from a mug.

Zod slowly sat up. He felt better too, certainly less sore than before.

“How long was I out of it?”

“A good twelve hours,” Coulson replied. “But you needed the rest. Want a coffee?”

Zod tilted his head.

“Coffee..?”

Coulson got him a mug of this coffee. It was black, it was bitter. It was… _wonderful_.

And now, Zod supposed it was time for him to say, _take me to your leader_ …

But he was fairly sure they were already doing that.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Shield HQ, on Earth,” Coulson said. “Our Director, Nick Fury, will want to meet you.”

Zod ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching on tangled knots. It was almost down to his shoulders now.

“Will I be able to…clean up…before we get there?”

“Certainly,” Coulson nodded. “But if you’re planning to cut your hair and/or shave, you’ll need to be under observation for that.”

Zod almost laughed at that.

“Were I in your shoes, I would say the same.”

It was Melinda May who did the observing while Zod hacked away at the tangled mop his dark hair had become. He had spent several years out on the fringes of society, and it showed…

Finally, he had his hair cropped short, to his liking. He briefly debated shaving the ragged-looking beard off entirely. But a memory of Krypton suddenly came to him.

_When I was a child at the Academy_ …

The painting of Sul Van hung in the Hall of Achievement in the Warrior’s Wing; so it could look down on those cadets honored for their exemplary deeds.

Sul Van’s face had been bare, but for a small chin beard.

That painting was long gone; with the rest of Krypton.

Zod paused, looked at his handiwork. The chin beard was mostly gray, but it looked right. He set the razor on the sink, next to the scissors.

_It may be hubris on my part_ …

Sul Van had been the one to end the Civil Wars, to bring order back to Krypton. They called him the Savior of Krypton…

Now, Krypton-all that was left of Krypton-lay inside Zod.

_Some day, I will find a place, and my people will live again_ …

“Very nice,” Melinda May retrieved the scissors and razor. “You’ll find clean clothes sized to you when you come out of the shower.”

Later, feeling properly clean for the first time in ages, Dru Zod found himself back in the Common Area, with the sofas and the staggering view of the starry void. Everyone else was there too, and Zod was formally introduced to all of them. He had already met Coulson, May, and Simmons, but now he met Leo Fitz and Skye. They all seemed to be nice people.

Nice people…

Nice people tended to die when they got involved with Zod. The Renan had been hunting him for so long now…

The Renan…

_They aren't nice.  Not nice at all_ …

Everyone here wanted to be friends, and Zod suspected it was because of Phil Coulson. There was a genuine goodness to the man, a  _trueness_ of soul that even Zod could feel.

“Dru Zod,” he found himself saying. “That is my name.”

“Thank you,” Phil Coulson smiled. “I know it’s hard for you to trust.”

Trust…

Suddenly, Zod was fighting the tears back, thinking of Jor El, what the Renan had done to him, what they had made Jor El do; what they were still making him do…

_I can't let Coulson shelter me without knowing the dangers_ …

“Phil Coulson,” he turned to the Human. “If you take me to your planet, you will place that planet in danger. The Renan are hunting me; they have been doing so for thirty-five years, and they will not stop until I am dead.”

“Why?” Coulson asked. So Zod told him.

Well…

Almost everything…

No reason to explain the Registry of Citizens hidden in his cells. It was sufficient to say he was the Last Kryptonian, and that the Renan were set upon the total destruction of everything that was Kryptonian.

But to tell it was to recall all of the agony; seeing Jor El-his best friend, a man he loved like a brother-return with empty eyes to oversee the destruction of Krypton.

_I warned you, Jor El.  I did.  Why didn't you listen?_

* * *

_What a terrible thing_ , Phil Coulson thought.

 Dru Zod was the last of his people. When he died, Krypton would be gone entirely.

Zod sat on the sofa, head bowed, grief etching the lines of his face. And all Coulson could offer were vague words of comfort.

“You’ll be safe here, Zod.”

But Coulson couldn’t guarantee that; and he wasn’t really sure that Nick Fury could either.

“Sir,” the Asgardian pilot spoke over the intercom. “We’ll be making the translation into Terran space shortly.”

“Thank you,” Coulson turned back to Zod. “We’ll be on Earth in a few. After that, we’ll see…”

Zod nodded, looking totally lost.

_We'll figure something out for you, I promise_ …

Things proceeded quickly after that. Soon Home II lay in orbit over Earth, and the jet, under Melinda May’s expert guidance, was heading down to the recently rebuilt Shield HQ.

“I send you to Tarbhan to pick up info on the Renan, and you pick up a stranger?”

Nick Fury strode up, single eye glaring at Coulson. The man was an intimidating figure, tall, left eye covered by an eye patch.

_There aren't many who can stand up to him_ …

“Director Fury, Sir,” Coulson gestured at his new friend. “This is Dru Zod.”

Fury and Zod looked each other over, nodded curtly, in virtually identical gestures.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Zod,” Fury said. “But an intergalactic incident isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“It’s not mine either,” Zod replied.

“Intergalactic incident, sir?”

“Yes,” Fury turned his stern, one-eyed gaze on Coulson. “You may have placed Earth in intolerable danger.”

“Director Fury,” Zod began. “With all due-“

“I’m talking to my agent now, Mr. Zod,” Fury held up a hand.

“I couldn’t abandon him,” Coulson said. “The Renan were going to kill him.”

Fury sighed.

“Probably true,” he agreed. “The Asgardians say there was a massive purge of Tarbhan’s population. They say the casualties may lie in the tens of millions.”

Coulson heard Zod’s breath catch at the announcement.

“You should have left me behind, Coulson,” the Kryptonian spoke softly.

“No,” Fury replied. “These Renan have shown their true colors now; and they are the enemy.”

“Make no mistake,” he turned to Zod now. “Your presence here does put Earth in danger. But we will not hand you over to these genocidal maniacs.”

Zod stared at him in disbelief, and Coulson was saddened by what that meant.

_Oh...Zod_ …

_Have you truly been betrayed that often_?

Coulson knew what betrayal felt like. Grant Ward and John Garrett had taught him that particular lesson. But he also had those he could trust; his team, May, Skye, Triplett, Simmons, and Fitz. And he also had his boss, Nick Fury.

Trust…

_What must it be like, not to be able to trust anyone at all_?

Dru Zod had lived a life without trust for far too long.

“Fury’s good people,” he laid a hand on Zod’s shoulder. “You can trust him. You can trust all of us.”

If the Renan came here, they would find one hell of a surprise.

_They might have an army.  But we have a Hulk..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renan aren't ready to stop looking for the Last

_Krypton, thirty-five years ago_

“They let me go to warn you,” Kai En told the hurriedly assembled Council. It wasn’t even dawn yet, the Council in emergency session, with General Dru Zod in attendance as well.

“The Lord Paramount said you were to be told of your Judgment,” Kai continued. “So you would have time to prepare for your deaths.”

“What of Jor El?” Zod asked. “What did they do to him?”

Kai shuddered, but met Zod’s eyes squarely.

“He is no longer himself, sir,” she said. “The Renan have enslaved his mind and soul.”

“Impossible,” there was disdain in Jax Ur’s voice. “That kind of technology doesn’t exist.”

“He killed Dax An,” Kai protested. “The Lord Paramount ordered Jor El to strangle Dax, and he did. Then, the Lord Paramount told me to go home and tell you they are coming.”

“Coming?” Lor Em asked.

“Yes,” Kai nodded, terror in her eyes. “They are coming, the Lord Paramount said, to execute Judgment upon us all.”

* * *

_Earth, present day_

Dru Zod opened his eyes. He lay on a comfortable bed in a Shield-owned apartment. The Earth’s golden sun-Sol-shone brightly through the windows, flooding the room with its early-morning radiance.

He had dreamed of Krypton again.

 _The Renan took Jor El's soul_ …

Sighing, Zod rolled out of bed, strode to the bedroom windows; and suddenly, he missed Rao’s red light, the intense homesickness stabbing through his heart.

 _There is no home to go back to_ , he reminded himself.

Krypton was gone. But these Humans had taken him in, with hardly a second thought.

In part, it had to be that Zod looked exactly like they did. He had been told that even an in-depth medical examination might not uncover his extraterrestrial origins. Only his weight, a touch over six hundred pounds-on a whip lean frame-would tell a medical professional that there was something just a little unusual about him.

But there were other races out there that looked Human too; the Asgardians, the Tarbhani, and the Renan, who were descendants of ancient Krypton; all virtually indistinguishable from each other.

  _Are we really all the same species?_

Dr. Streiten certainly seemed to think so. For all that, though, Zod had learned there were crucial differences.

 _I can fly; I can see through things_ …

And, of course, there was that other thing he could do with his eyes. The experts had called that heat vision. But Zod very much preferred Triplett’s description.

 _Eye-lasers_.

Zod had never been able to do any of that on Krypton, so he supposed it all had to do with gravity, solar radiation, and the relative differences in atmosphere between the planets he had been on.

The Humans on Earth, for example…

They were so much weaker than he was, it was almost frightening. Of course there were a few exceptions…

Captain America came to mind, as did Thor, although Thor was Asgardian, not Terran. And, there was a creature Zod hadn’t met yet that everyone said might actually be Zod’s equal in strength.

 _But the Hulk only comes out when he's angry_ , Tony Stark had explained.  _And no one in their right mind wants that..._ …

These Avengers were an interesting group…

It hadn’t escaped Zod that Directory Nick Fury was trying to recruit him for the Avengers, and he supposed he would fit in rather well with this rather motley group. But he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted.

 _My duty is to my people_.

They were all hidden in the cells of his body; awaiting the day when they could live again. That, above all, was where his duty lay.

 _Someday, Krypton will live again_ …

* * *

_Renan Home world, Concilium Hall_

The Lord Paramount was in Session with the Plenary High Council, awaiting the return of his Tool. Sadly, the Tool was returning empty-handed. It had been so close this time…

But the Last had escaped-again-along with his hidden cache of Kryptonian souls.

It had pleased the Lord Paramount to have his Tool initiate a purge of the Tarbhani populace.

 _The Tool_ …

 _One of the Betrayers returned_. _A scion of accursed Krypton.._.

Jor El had come calling, with five more of his fellow Betrayers; wishing to be friends…

The Lord Paramount curled his lip.

 _They abandoned us, left us to die, and we did_. _By the millions_. _By our own efforts, we survived it all_ ; _the plagues, the wars, the never-ending struggle to survive_. _Now, we thrive, and we are strong._ _But we remember_. _The first Lord Paramount, the Great Unifier, laid his hand on the Memorial Plaque, and swore the Great Oath_.

“ _Never forgive, never forget_.”

 _Krypton's punishment is richly deserved_ …

The Lord Paramount rose, his towering frame encased in armor.

 _Dru Zod will die_ , he vowed. _The Last of Krypton shall be erased from the universe's memory_.

The Tool entered the gigantic pillared hall, striding down to stand before the Lord Paramount. There, he dropped to his knees. It pleased the Lord Paramount to let Jor El remain there, on his knees, head bowed.

“Speak,” he finally commanded. “Have the Tarbhani been punished as I have decreed?”

“They have, my Lord,” the Tool remained kneeling, head bowed.

“What of Dru Zod? Have the Tarbhani any idea where he might have gone?”

“The Consul said visitors from Earth came there, my Lord. He had them arrested. By mistake, the prison guards put them in the same cell where they were holding Dru Zod. When they escaped, they apparently took Dru Zod with them.”

“So, they went to this…Earth?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Councilor Kor,” the Lord Paramount turned to his Council. “Does Earth lie in our records?”

“No, my Lord,” a blocky man answered. “But it may be in Tarbhan’s records, and there is little chance of them disobeying us ever again.”

“Find Earth,” the Lord Paramount ordered. “Dru Zod must die for the Judgment to be complete.”

“He shall die,” the Councilor moved to do his bidding.

Dru Zod…

He had proven far too canny at the art of survival.

 _I shall have Jor El kill him_ …

He looked down at the kneeling figure, head bowed as if in prayer.

 _When Dru Zod is dead, then shall I allow my Tool to die_ …

* * *

_Earth, Shield HQ_

“He seems to be adjusting very well,” Dr. Streiten said to Director Nick Fury.

Fury nodded. It had been three months since Special agent Phil Coulson had brought a Kryptonian fugitive to Earth, and Dru Zod was proving to be quite a revelation…

 _Able to fly, can see through everything, and_ … _eye-lasers too_. _To top it all off, he might even be stronger than the Hulk_ …

But Zod was…skittish too…just a touch paranoid.

 _Thirty-five years as a hunted fugitive might have something to do with it_ …

“Where is he now?” Fury asked.

“Zod’s out with Tony Stark right now,” Streiten chuckled. “Tony’s ecstatic that there’s another flyer in the neighborhood.”

“I’d better rein Mr. Stark in,” Fury grumbled. “Zod isn’t a brand new toy for him to play with…”

* * *

Flying, totally under his own power, had to be the most incredible thing Dru Zod had ever experienced. But the news of Tarbhan had soured the experience for him.

The Renan had purged the Tarbhani; genocide on a massive scale, the dead numbering upwards of fifteen million. The Captain of that freighter, and his crew…

 _He took me in, made me a member of his crew_ …

They were all probably dead now; along with fifteen million other Tarbhani. Zod bowed his head, grief constricting his throat.

Jor El killed them…

It had been fun flying with Ironman; but Zod couldn’t forget Jor El, and what the Renan had done to him…

* * *

_Renan Home World_

Earth had finally been found…

“Prepare the fleet,” the Lord Paramount ordered. “We will go to Earth, and demand they give Zod to us. In return for their obedience, we might even let the Earthers live.”

The general left to carry out his orders. Now, the Lord Paramount was alone in his private quarters. Except for the Tool…

He was standing, back to the wall, empty eyes staring blankly ahead. The Lord Paramount regarded him.

“Jor El,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“We go to Earth,” the Lord Paramount placed a hand on his Tool’s shoulder. “There, you shall kill Dru Zod. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the Tool’s voice was toneless. “I shall kill Dru Zod.”

“Very good. Now, go to bed.”

“My Lord,” the Tool bowed and left the Lord Paramount’s quarters. The Lord Paramount chuckled softly.

_Go to your kennel, Jor El.  You will be allowed to die soon enough..._

* * *

The Tool lays himself down upon his plain bed. He lies there, looking up at the low ceiling until sleep takes him.

It is late now, and all is quiet, in the palace, and outside of it.

But, inside his head, the Tool can hear screaming…


	5. Finding the Last Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renan Arrive, and Phil Coulson makes an astonishing discovery about Dru Zod

It was definitely  _not_ another normal day for the men and women of the branch of SHIELD best known as OSOP; Outer Space Operations. They had been tasked, by no less than Director Nick Fury himself, with seeding space, both near and far, with the very best of scanners. Apparently, the Director believed alien invasion to be imminent.

Those fears had been proven correct.

The OSOP scanners recorded the advance of what was most definitely a Renan fleet progressing in-system. The fleet was frighteningly large…

Several destroyers, thousands of fighters, and what had to be the largest,  _meanest-looking_ dreadnaught anyone-including the Asgardians-had ever seen.

But Director Fury had been expecting the Renan to put in an appearance for a little over a year now; ever since Agent Phil Coulson had brought a refugee named Dru Zod to Earth…

* * *

Director Fury, along with his chief ally, King Odin of Asgard, were watching the Renan Fleet approach on a giant wall monitor.

“Director Fury,” the Asgardian spoke. “It would perhaps be best to send your refugee into hiding right about now.”

“Any chance of getting him off the planet entirely?”

Odin shook his head.

“No, Director,” he said. “The Renan have the entire system under scan. Any attempt to escape would be futile, I’m afraid to say. However, the Asgardian military will be here soon; although I am uncertain they will be able to do much against a fleet of that magnitude. Dru Zod must be sent into hiding.”

“He won’t like that at all,” Fury muttered.

“I understand, Director,” Odin swung his stern one-eyed gaze back to the wall-monitor as he continued to speak.

“But, even such a one as Dru Zod can be made to see reason.”

“Maybe…”

Fury picked up his cell-phone and speed-dialed a number. It rang once, was picked up.

“Agent Coulson speaking, sir.”

“Is Zod with you?”

“He is, sir.”

Fury let out a breath.

“The visitors we feared have arrived in force. A combined SHIELD/Asgardian task-force will try to hold them off; but neither Odin nor I are optimistic about our chances. Take Zod into hiding. I’ll let you know as things develop.”

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

Coulson hung up, and Fury put his phone away. Odin had also been communicating with his people, ordering his military into action. Those duties done, the two men shared a grim look.

_We have no choice but to fight these Renan with everything we have_. _It's that, or we end like the Tarbhani_ …

* * *

Dru Zod entered Agent Phil Coulson’s office on the big hover-jet that seemed to be his Home-base. The giant aircraft was heading off for… _somewhere hidden,_ was how Agent Melinda May put it.

“Zod,” Coulson gestured to a chair across from him.

Zod sat, studying Coulson’s face. He looked worried.

“Director Fury called,” he said. “The Renan have entered the system in force, and they’re on their way here.”

Zod opened his mouth to speak, but Coulson spoke first.

“Defenses have been raised,” he said. “And we also have allies, the Asgardians; and they will be here too. Earth isn’t entirely defenseless.”

“I hope so,” Zod spoke earnestly. “But…”

He paused, sighing.

“The Renan are… _driven_ , Agent Coulson; and I am the target of their rage.”

“What did you guys  _do_ to make them hate you so? Why are they going to such lengths just to kill you?”

“I told you why.”

“Yes,” Coulson looked at Zod over the rim of his coffee mug. “ _Never forgive, never forget_. They must be insane to exact vengeance on such a scale. There is no crime in the universe that could justify _this_.”

“They’re the ones with the power to enforce their demands,” Zod reminded him. “And, unless your forces are stronger than everyone else’s forces have proven to be, they will get what they demand here too. Or Earth will become another Tarbhan.”

Again, the grief welled up.

Jor El had destroyed Krypton, and Jor El had been the one who purged Tarbhan’s population. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume Jor El would be part of the Renan invasion force.

Jor El…

That brilliant genius of a man, now reduced to a mindless automaton…

Zod fought the tears off.

_I should have spoken more forcefully against Jor  El's mission to the Renan_. _If only I had been able to convince the Council not to let him go_ …

Zod shook himself. The past was _past_ , and there weren’t any do overs this side of death.

“You have to go into hiding,” Coulson said.

_Hiding_?

“I’m a Warrior, Agent Coulson. I don’t…hide.”

“Of course not,” Coulson nodded. “But this time you have to. We can’t get you off-planet, so the only other option is to-“

“Stand and fight,” Zod stood. “I’m tired of running, tired of hiding. Too many people- _millions_ -have died on my account.”

“I understand, Zod. But we have no choice.  _You_ have no choice.”

Abruptly, Zod remembered Lor Em, head of the Council of Krypton, what he had said before sending Zod away from Krypton.

_You are Krypton_. _All that Krypton is, was, and ever shall be now lies within you_ …

The Registry of Citizens lay inside him, all those billions of unborn souls hidden in his blood.

Zod had been bred and born to defend Krypton. It was the only life he had ever known, the only life he could ever imagine for himself; and those unborn Kryptonians were his sacred duty.

_I can't stand and fight_.  _My people, my duty is to them_ …

But he was tired, so tired…

“Zod?” Coulson’s voice brought him back.

“Yes,” Zod lifted his head. “I will do as you say. I will go into hiding.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Coulson’s face.

_How many more millions will die because of me_?

* * *

Two men watched the monitor, watched as the battle progressed. Nick Fury sighed.

The battle wasn’t going well for the defenders.

The Asgardians were good, and so were their ships and weaponry. But the Renan were better, and there were so many more of them.

_All of this to find and kill one man..._

_Why?_

As charismatic and formidable a personality as he was, Dru Zod was still only one man.

The Renan had already killed millions, just trying to kill Zod.

“You should give Coulson the signal now,” Odin said. “My people can’t hold the Renan off for much longer. These Renan are simply too many and too determined.”

“ _Why_?” Fury exploded. “Why are they going to such lengths to kill this one guy? They _won_. Krypton is gone, and there’s nothing Zod can do to change that.”

“I don’t know, Director Fury,” Odin laid a hand of Fury’s shoulder. “Call Coulson.”

* * *

Phil Coulson sighed as he put his phone away.

“Agent May,” he ordered. “Get everyone together, and divert to Chicago.”

“What’s in Chicago?” Zod had asked upon being told of Coulson’s decision.

“A SHIELD Underground Shelter,” Coulson replied. “This is where we all hide for now.”

The Renan arrived about a week after the battle, and took up orbit; a threatening presence.

Then, they opened communications by the simple expedient of taking over all satellite systems. Everyone in the shelter gathered to watch the message on the monitor.

“They’re speaking English…” Simmons spoke in wonder.

“They’re using a universal translator,” Zod informed her.

“Ah…a Babelfish,” someone in the rear said.

“A Babel… _what_?” Zod asked no one in particular.

“Stay on point, people,” Coulson commanded. “And pay attention.”

He was keeping an eye on Dru Zod when the message started, saw the man’s reaction when the message started on the monitor; the sudden grief in the man’s eyes.

It was a man with graying brown hair and beard, and empty blue eyes.

_Is that Zod's Jor El?_?

The man spoke, voice a dull monotone.

“I am the Voice of the Lord Paramount of the Renan Collective. You are harboring a Kryptonian refugee by the name of Dru Zod. We require that you surrender Dru Zod to us, along with the Codex he carries. Failure to do so will carry dire consequences. You have twenty-four hours within which to respond.”

The monitor went blank.

Coulson turned to Zod.

“The…Codex?” he asked. “What’s that all about?”

Zod only shook his head.

“Look at me, Dru,” Coulson said. “We want to help you, really, we do. But you have to tell us everything. What is the Codex?”

Zod stood motionless, barely even breathing. Then, he sighed…

“The Codex is the housing for the Registry of Citizens,” he finally said.

“The Registry of Citizens? Why would the Renan want that?”

“It’s not a simple registry of names, Agent Coulson. It contains the cells of unborn Kryptonians; billions of them. With access to a Genesis Chamber, I could create a new Krypton out of the ashes…”

“So you  _do_ have the Codex?”

“No, Agent Coulson, I don’t have the Codex…”

Here, he paused, an odd mix of pride, grief, and fear in his eyes as he spoke.

“I  _am_ the Codex.”

“You…you’re… _what_?”

Coulson stared at him with eyes gone wide in shock; and Zod chuckled softly…

“I carry the cells of a billion unborn Kryptonians in my blood, Agent Coulson. They are why I have fought so hard to live, when all I’ve ever really wanted is to curl up and die, along with the rest of those who perished on Krypton; Faora, Lara, Jor El’s wife, and so many others. But I was bred to defend Krypton, and my duty will always be to serve and protect Krypton.”

All Coulson felt was awe…

Awe for the people who had done such a thing-transplanting the cells of a billion unborn people into the body of another.

But most of all, he felt awe for Dru Zod for carrying such a heavy responsibility; for shouldering such a burden.

As long as Zod lived, Krypton lived, and that was no trivial thing.

Dru Zod  _was_ Krypton.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle begins. 
> 
> Warning! Character Death!

Renan _Flagship, Vengeance is Mine_

The Lord Paramount sat on his throne, on the Bridge of his flagship. The Terrans had put up a spirited defense of their home world, doing more damage to the Renan fleet than he had anticipated.

 _Not enough to prevent justice.  We are strong, and shall see this through to the end_ …

His Chief General had suggested orbital bombardment.

“The Earthers have no defense against our weapons,” the man had said.

All of which was true, the Lord Paramount had agreed. But he had made other plans…

 _I said I would have my Tool, Jor El, kill Dru Zod_. _No Kryptonian would ever deserve the quick death orbital bombardment would give_.

Besides, Earth was such a pretty little planet; all blue, white, and green…

 _When this war is done, I shall make Earth my own private reserve_ …

Jor El stood by his side, head properly bowed in subservience, hands folded together.

 _My Tool_ …

Renan scientists had enhanced the Tool-implants and nanotechnology-all to make him stronger than the strongest Kryptonian.

 _On Earth, even the weakest Krypronian would have been as a god to the Terrans_. T _heir strongest fighters won't stand a chance against him_ ; _and neither will Dru Zod_.

The Lord Paramount watched his people, going about their tasks with quiet efficiency. As they worked, he turned his attention back to his Tool. Jor El was now wearing the clothes he had been wearing when he had been captured; priestly robes over dark blue bodysuit, and a sturdy-looking pendant bearing the El House Sigil.

Most upper-caste Renan were well educated, and the Lord Paramount was no exception. He spoke and read Ancient, Pre-Betrayal Kryptonian, and he knew what that Sigil meant.

The irony was…delicious.

 _You bear the sign of Hope_ , _and I send you to kill Dru Zod_ , _Krypton's last hope_. _By your own hands shall hope be destroyed_.

“It’s time,” he said to Jor El. “Go out. Find Dru Zod. Let nothing, let no one stand in your way. Kill Dru Zod with your own hands.”

“My Lord,” the Tool bowed and left the Bridge. The Lord Paramount stood, faced the gigantic view-screen.

 _Soon, the Last of Krypton shall be dead_ …

* * *

Director Nick Fury had called the Avengers together. They were a rather fractious brood, but today, they were-mostly-behaving themselves…

 _The Renan are threatening Earth, and Dru Zod's a friend of theirs_ …

Tony Stark would have very much preferred to storm the Renan’s front door…

 _But we don't have the resources for that.  Our war will have to be a defensive one_ …

“Why haven’t they bombarded us yet?” Fury wondered aloud. Orbital bombardment would have settled the issue.

Permanently.

Even Dru Zod couldn’t have survived that…

Fury chewed his lip.

What were the Renan planning?

“Sir!” an aide reported. “Bogies, headed our way.”

Fury brought his attention back to the monitor.

“I don’t see any ships,” he muttered.

“No ships, sir,” the aide pointed out the small group of humanoid figured flying down, and Fury felt his jaw drop.

“That’s…impossible!”

There were roughly twenty armored figures, all wearing visored helms. But it was the twenty-first who caught his attention…

Male, wearing what looked like robes…

His head was bare…

No helmet, no oxygen tank; nothing to protect him from the cold of space, the total lack of air, or the total lack of pressure.

 _These people can survive total decompression_ …

Maybe orbital bombardment was redundant, in this case…

“Mr. Stark,” he brought his attention back to the Avengers. “What is it you always say in times like these?”

“Depends on the situation, Boss,” Stark was also watching the Monitor. “Care to hum a few bars?”

Fury smiled grimly. “Get your suits on.”

* * *

_En route to Chicago_

The Shield Jet was taking the Avengers to their appointed destination. The Renan landing party seemed to be heading that way, and it bugged Tony Stark a little.

 _It's almost like they know where we stashed Zod_. _They using scanners_?

He Commed Agent Phil Coulson.

“The Renan may know where you guys are,” he said.

“Director Fury told me,” Coulson replied. “We’re deep under the ground now. If they want us, they’ll have to come down and get us. We’re also trying to get some good scans of the attack leader. We think he’s the Renan Voice, and if he is, he might be a friend of Zod’s. Fitz thinks we might be able to free his mind.”

“How?”

“Fitz thinks they’re controlling him through implants. If that’s so, we might be able to…short them out or something.”

“Good luck with that,” Stark snorted. “Guy’s Kryptonian, and the Renan are descended from Kryptonians, I’ve been told, and you’ve got twenty-plus of these guys heading your way. But we’re coming too, and Banner’s ready to…get angry.”

“Thanks. Coulson out.”

 _Almost there_ …

Stark settled himself in his Iron Man suit, lowered his visor.

“Everyone!” he barked. “Get your suits on!”

They put down on the outskirts of Chicago.

“Ready?” he asked Bruce Banner. Banner looked up at the sky, at the now clearly visible invaders flying in.

“I am now,” he began to run, his form blurring, clothes ripping to shreds as he moved. The Hulk leaped up into the sky, right into the middle of the enemy formation, grabbing arms and legs, hurling bodies left and right with mad abandon.

“Leave some for me!” Tony Stark hurled himself skyward, and battle was joined.

* * *

A warrior bred and born, Dru Zod hated waiting on the sidelines of any battle; but _this_ …

This was worse.

This time, the battle was over him. People, again, were dying…for _him_.

 _All I can do is stand by, helpless, and watch Chicago burn_ …

Standing there, in the control room, listening to the Avengers, as they fought the invaders...

“The baddies just eye-lasered the South Underground Shelter,” Tony Stark reported in. “It’s caved in now. No survivors.”

“Damn…” that was Melinda May. “Ten thousand civilians dead…”

Zod turned away from the monitor, throat tightening. Ten thousand dead in less than a minute, close to forty million dead on Tarbhan.

 _How can any one man be worth all this death_?

Zod understood what Lor Em had tried to do by placing the Registry of Citizens in his blood. But Lor Em had made a critical miscalculation.

He had thought, with Krypton’s population annihilated, and the planet itself destroyed, that one lone ragged survivor would be able to sail beneath their notice. Zod knew better now.

The Renan had made a religion out of their desired vengeance. They inhaled vengeance as they breathed, ate vengeance with their daily bread, and drank it in with every draught…

 _They will not stop until I am dead, and they will kill everyone who gets in their way_ …

He shivered. He didn’t want to die. He had his duty to the Kryptonians hiding in his blood. But more millions would die today.

 _I can't let this happen again_ …

“Dru?” Jenna Simmons was there, concern in her eyes. But now, Zod knew what he had to do.

 _Time to end this_ …

He turned, walked away, looking for the nearest exit.

“Dru?” Simmons followed him.

“Go back to Agent Coulson,” he commanded.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Go back to Agent Coulson,” Zod repeated. “Let me do…what I have to do.”

“But…They’ll kill you!”

Zod stopped, turned to her, saw the tears in her eyes. He sighed.

“Please…Little Bird…”

 _I can't do this anymore_ …

He should have died on Krypton; with Faora, with Lor Em, with Lara Lor-Van, and all the rest of his people. Lor Em had chosen Zod to be Krypton’s Savior.

 _But I am no Sul Van_ …

He laid gentle hands on Simmons’s shoulders.

“I can’t save my people now, Little Bird. It’s too late for them. But I can save yours. Please, Little Bird, let me do that much.”

Simmons bowed her head, tears running down her cheeks. But she didn’t resist when Zod left.

* * *

“Sir!” Leo Fitz ran in, excitement in his eyes and voice. “I’ve found the answer!”

“The answer?” Phil Coulson turned from watching the battle raging on the monitor.

“The scans show implants at the base of Jor El’s skull. An EMP device should be able to short them out. The end result will either free him, or kill him. Of course, delivering the EMP will be a bit of a problem.”

“Could you make…EMP arrows?”

That brought Fitz up short. He frowned for a second.

“Yeah…” he finally said. “Don’t see why not.”

Coulson nodded. He had an idea.

“Get Hawkeye over here.”

“Already done,” Skye smiled just a touch smugly. “He’ll be here in a few.”

“Good,” Coulson turned to see Jenna Simmons enter the control room, crying quietly.

“Simmons?”

She walked right into his arms, sobbing.

“He’s…gone, sir,” her voice was muffled against his midriff. “He’s going to let them kill him.”

“Sir,” Skye spoke up. “Hawkeye’s here.”

“Good,” still comforting Simmons, he turned to Fitz.

“Make as many of those EMP arrows as you can,” he said. “And hurry!”

Fitz gulped, and ran back to his lab. Coulson sighed, closed his eyes.

 _Dru_ …

“Sir?” Clint Barton-Hawkeye-was there.

“Go see Fitz” Coulson ordered. “He’s making EMP arrows. You’ve seen photos of this Renan Voice?”

“I have, sir,” Barton nodded.

“He’s Kryptonian, apparently in thrall to the Renan. He might be a friend of Zod’s, and if we can free him…”

“He’ll be a potential ally,” Barton nodded. “That where the EMP arrows come in?”

“Yes. Where’s the Director?”

“He’s on his way,” Barton turned to head for the lab. “How soon before the arrows are ready?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes, and that might not be soon enough.”

“Why?”

“Zod left the Compound,” Coulson felt cold grief. “He’s going to offer up his life. For us. Get the arrows, Hawkeye, and pray you get them in time.”

* * *

**Zod**

Dru Zod was flying, seeking Jor El; and there his once-friend was, plowing through various assembled militaries, missiles, mortar shells, and…the Hulk…

Even the Hulk was having trouble with Jor El, and what that said about Zod’s chances...

Well…

Zod had known he was going to die today.

 _If I am to die today, let me bring Jor El down_. _Let me set him free, even if it must be in death_ …

He dove, dropping from the sky like a guided missile…

Hitting Jor El felt a lot like hitting a brick wall…

**Hawkeye**

Clint Barton had taken a light Hover-on loan from the Asgardians. His orders had been clear.

 _Avoid combat, if at all possible_. _Locate Jor El_. _Shoot him in the back of the neck with the EMP arrows_. _Do so only if you have a clear shot_.

There lay the rub…

First he had to find the guy. But even then, he would have to be in range, and in the right place, to make such a difficult shot.

 _But, that's why they chose me_. _I can make that kind of shot_.

So, now he was searching for Jor El, and only Jor El. The Avengers would have to take care of the rest…

**Iron Man**

Tony Stark cursed under his breath.

The Avengers all had their work cut out for them. The Renan were very nearly as strong as Zod. Stark dodged a burst of eye-lasers, grabbed an invader by an ankle, and hurled him into the flight path of another. The pair went down, crashing right through a nearby skyscraper.

 _They're probably gonna come back up fighting_ …

He had received a worrying communication from Director Fury.

 _Zod's out here too_ …

“He’s going into this with the intention of dying,” Fury had said.

“Bugger that,” Stark had growled as he smacked yet another Renan invader down.

 _We'll just have to prevent that, won't we_?

He flew on, looking for the next Renan to put down.

**Hawkeye**

Clint Barton had finally located Jor El, and Dru Zod too.

The pair was locked in combat, up in the air, way up high. The fight didn’t seem to be going well for Zod. Jor El seemed to be stronger than Zod, and maybe faster too.

 _So, all those implants aren't just for mind control_ …

Even at this distance, Barton could see the emptiness in Jor El’s blue eyes.

 _I need to end this_ …

Zod was going to die if Hawkeye couldn’t end it.

He moved his hover, trying to find a good place, a good angle with which to make his shot. But the combatants were just too fast.

Abruptly, Zod was falling, body tumbling through the air. The body hit the ground hard, cracking the cement. He didn’t get up again. Jor El dove, coming to land just a few short feet away from where Zod lay. That was the moment Hawkeye had been waiting for.

Quickly, he drew an EMP arrow, eyes focused on the back of the man’s neck as he drew, set, and fired.

The EMP arrow sped to its target, striking him squarely in the back of his neck, at the base of the skull. Light flared out from the man’s body, and he crumpled, body convulsing before he even hit the ground.

Barton brought his wristwatch to his lips, spoke into it.

“Target is down, I repeat, target is down. But it may be too late anyway. Zod is down too, and I can’t tell his condition from this distance. I’m going to-“

“Stay clear,” Director Fury responded. “Do not approach.”

“But…Zod-“ ”

"Stay clear,” there was iron in Fury’s voice. “We don’t know the target’s condition. Do not approach.”

“Yes, Sir,” Barton sighed as he looked at the scene.

 _Zod could be dying.  He could be dead.._.

The other man’s body had stopped convulsing. Now, he lay, body curled, almost in a fetal position. Had the EMP arrow succeeded?

* * *

_Gods...Free...I'm...free..._

The realization brought a mad rush of adrenalin in its wake.

Free…

No longer under the Lord Paramount’s thumb…

Then memory crashed in upon him, and Jor El curled in upon himself, whimpering.

He remembered landing his ship on the Renan Home World, The pride he felt at the apparent success of his mission. He remembered how the Renan had welcomed him with open arms, right up to the time when…

He shuddered where he lay.

_They took us all.  They took...me._

They had taken him, put implants into him, made him their slave, and sent him back to Krypton, in command of their…punitive expedition.

Jor El’s eyes squeezed shut, grief choking him, tears streaming down.

_I destroyed Krypton.  My people...Lara...I killed them all._

His mad howl of grief would have terrified even a Quarn.

 _Lara_ …

He remembered killing her, remembered killing Lor Em; every memory crystal clear in its precision, in every sensory detail. He had killed everyone on Krypton, even the children at the Academy. Only one man had survived Krypton’s destruction…

 _Dru_ …

_Gods...Dru..._

Slowly, Jor El lifted his head, pulling himself up on trembling hands and knees.

 _I don't want to see_ …

Dru Zod lay just a few feet away, sprawled face down on the shattered ground, and the sight made Jor El whimper again.

His hands trembled as he knelt by the body, fingers checking for a pulse.

Weak…thready…but _there_.

Relief trembled its way through Jor El as he gathered his friend into his arms, cradling him, holding him close. Blood trickled from Zod’s nose, and the corner of his mouth.

_What have I done?_

Abruptly, Jor El became aware of the pendant he was wearing, the pendant the Lord Paramount had allowed him to wear as mockery of Jor El’s pretensions.

Hope. What cruel irony…

 _In my pride_ , _my absolute certainty that I was right_ , _I brought destruction down upon Krypton_. _I became Hope's destroyer_ , _and Dru_ …

He looked down at Zod, unconscious, possibly dying in Jor El’s arms.

Dru Zod had become Krypton's Hope.

Jor El’s hand settled upon his pendant. He had, he realized, lost the right to wear that pendant.

 _Dru...Al those years of lonely wandering_ , _seeking a place where Krypton could live again_ …

He took the pendant off, slipped it over his unconscious friend’s head.

 _Live, Dru.  Be Krypton's Hope, where I have failed_ …

“Put him down.”

The man’s voice pulled Jor El’s attention away from his friend. The man was dark-skinned, with an eye-patch, and holding an odd-looking weapon in both hands.

“I _said_ ,” the man repeated. “Put…him…down.”

“Y-yes…” Jor El nodded, shivering as he looked down at his friend.

 _I'm sorry, Dru.  You were right.  I was wrong.  Why didn't I listen to you_?

Gently, he lay his friend back down.

“Now,” the man said. “Step away from him.”

Jor El obeyed, tears in his eyes.

“He warned me,” he said. “He told me not to go to the Renan.”

“So I was told,” the man gestured, and a little slip of a girl ran up to Zod, accompanied by stretcher bearers with an anti-grav stretcher. The girl looked awfully young to be a Medicus. But this was Earth, not Krypton.

But now, Jor El knew what he had to do, and the knowing calmed the clamor in his heart, brought clarity to his soul…

“I don’t know whom to thank for freeing me,” he said. “One of your people?”

“Yes,” the man nodded. “We can offer you sanctuary. I’m Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, and we can-“

“Thank you, Director Fury,” Jor El looked at Zod, at the girl-just a child, really-working to save his life.

“Dru Zod must be protected,” he brought his gaze back to Fury. “As long as he lives, Krypton lives.”

“Yeah…” Fury agreed. “But there’s the Renan, and-“

“Leave the Renan to me,” Jor El knew what he had to do now. “Tell Dru I’m sorry. For everything.”

Then, he stepped backward and leaped into the air.

* * *

“Damn!” Fury exploded as he watched the man fly upward. He just knew Jor El was going to do something… _frightening_.

Sighing, he turned to look at Simmons, working on her patient. He could hear the Medevac coming in. His cell phone buzzed.

“Fury here.”

“Coulson, sir. The Avengers are beginning to get a handle on the invaders. Is Zod-“

“Zod’s alive, and we’ll be arriving at your location in a few.”

The patient, intubated, now lay in the anti-grav stretcher. It was only the work of a moment to bundle the stretcher, and its cargo, into the Medevac. Fury clambered aboard too, looking up at the sky.

What was Jor El planning to do?

* * *

 _They made me destroy Krypton_ , _they made me kill Lara_ , _they made me Purge Tarbhan_ , _and, were it not for the Terrans_ , _they would have made me kill Dru Zod_.

The horrific grief of earlier was gone; replaced by… _rage_.

 _They will pay.  By the blood of my House, the Lord Paramount will pay.._.

He flew on, his destination the Light Destroyer, Vindex. Like Krypton, the Renan ships used the Phantom Drive; and Jor El knew a thing or two about the Phantom drive, and how it interacted with the Phantom Zone…

He had already given the signal that Dru Zod was dead, so the small crew was expecting him; and, once he was in…

Jor El had never before experienced what other people called _a killing rage_. The twelve man crew on the Vindex didn’t stand a chance against him. Soon, they were all dead, and the Vindex under his control. Now, it was Jor El’s turn to exact a terrible vengeance.

The Vindex moved, heading for the Lord Paramount’s mighty dreadnaught, the Vengeance Is Mine.

“No, Lord Paramount,” Jor El muttered. “Vengeance is _mine_ …”

* * *

“My Lord!” Sub Commander Talal spoke up. “The Vindex has broken formation. It’s heading for us.”

“Comm them,” the Lord Paramount sat on his throne.

“They do not respond,” Talal said. “They’re picking up speed.”

Jor El sat at the helm. As the Vindex approached the Vengeance Is Mine, all he could do was remember…

His entire life had been spent trying to save Krypton from itself; to prevent his culture from slowly dying from within. He had failed in his duty; catastrophically so.

“Dru,” he muttered. “It’s all in your hands now, and may your hands be better hands than mine. Make a new Krypton, better, stronger, healthier, than the one we knew.”

“My Lord!” there was alarm in Talal’s voice. “The Vindex has attained ramming speed!”

The Lord Paramount shot to his feet. Only now did he realize what was happening.

Jor El had been freed somehow…

“Stop them!” he commanded. “Fire all weapons!”

The Bridge of the Vindex was hit, destroying the Helm, and anyone piloting her. But it was far too late…

The Vindex hurtled on…

The two ships collided…

The Singularity opened all around the Lord Paramount. He could hear his crew, his people, screaming, as they were swallowed up, as he was pulled in with them, swallowed up into the Phantom Zone…

* * *

Phil Coulson stared in horror at the scene unfolding on the giant wall monitor.

 _It's our salvation_ , he reminded himself.

But watching as the Renan fleet, as thousands of people were swallowed up by a black hole, he shuddered at the horror of it all. The entire fleet, the dreadnaught, all the destroyers, all the fighters, all of them were gone, swallowed up by the Singularity.

Then, its job done, the Singularity had winked out of existence, leaving the space around Earth bare.

All of the Renan were dead; except for the few who remained of the ones who had come down. Only six of those remained alive, safely stashed away in the Fridge.

The others were dead; killed by the Avengers.

“Dear God…”

Even Director Fury was horrified at what Jor El had done.

Coulson felt numb. Jor El had sacrificed his life.

For Zod, he realized.

_But he bought us victory.  Complete and total victory_

“How’s Zod?” Fury asked.

“Simmons thinks he’s going to be all right.”

“Hope so,” Fury grunted. “Or all of this…death will have been for nothing.”

* * *

It was the morning after the battle, and Dr. Simmons was keeping a watchful eye on her patient.

Dru Zod was asleep, warm blankets up to his shoulders. He was showing signs of beginning to wake up, stirring restlessly.

 _What do I tell him_?

His eyes opened.

“Little Bird?” his voice sounded scratchy...

“It’s all right, Dru.”

Zod’s eyes focused on her, confusion in his eyes.

“How is it I am still alive, Little Bird?”

Simmons smiled through her tears.

“When you’re feeling better, Dru,” she said.

But his hands had found the pendant around his neck, the one Jor El had left with him. He looked down at it, fingers tracing the symbol that looked so much like an S…

He looked back up, and his eyes were frightened.

“Jor El?”

“He wanted you to have that,” Simmons couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. She reached out to hold his hand.

* * *

Two months later Earth was pulling itself together after yet another alien invasion, and Agent Phil Coulson was sure Director Nick Fury was getting just a little tired of Earth playing the galaxy’s favorite punching bag.

 _God knows I am_ …

Dru Zod had recovered from his injuries quickly. Then, when he had finally been allowed to leave Medical, he just up and disappeared.

It had taken some serious satellite surveillance to locate him, perched on the top of Mount Everest.

 _Let him be_ , Fury had ordered. _He'll come down when he's good and ready_.

Coulson had understood.

 _For thirty-five years_ , _he never had the time to mourn Krypton.  It was hard enough just trying to stay alive.  Now, he has the time to grieve, to mourn all of his friends who died on Krypton; and Jor El too..._

Zod emerged out of his self-imposed seclusion around a week later.

At least the Renan wouldn’t be a threat to anyone; not for a good long while…

The Renan worlds had exploded in civil war immediately upon the destruction of the Renan fleet. Asgardian long-range scanners had reported the use of thermo-nuclear devices.

 _They're nuking themselves out of existence_ …

Sadly, they weren’t the only ones teetering on the brink of extinction.

The Tarbhani…

Other woes had followed hard upon the horrific Purges; famine…plague...

Asgardian scientists had spoken of _critical loss of genetic diversity._..

Coulson wasn’t any kind of scientist. But he knew what that meant.

 _The Tarbhani are dying out_ …

But the Tarbhani had one last thing to do.

 _We've been invited to come to them.  They've especially requested that Dru Zod be present_ …

The meeting was very different this time, very public, very friendly; then followed the private audience, in the Consul’s own house.

“I apologize for the simplicity of our surroundings,” the Consul-new, as the previous Consul had died during the Purges-poured the wine himself.

“The Renan were…brutal…in their occupation of our planet.”

“I’m sorry your people suffered so much at their hands.” Director Fury said. “Is there anything we can do?”

“It’s too late for us,” the Consul bowed his head. “I’m told we might have three generations, before we…depart. Our dearest wish is to…make amends.”

“ _Amends_?” Zod spoke in desbelief. “What could you possibly have to make amends for?”

“For how we treated _you_ , Dru Zod,” the Consul looked him in the eye. “You came to us a refugee, fleeing the destruction of your world. But, when the Renan came, to our eternal shame, we sought to use you to buy their good will; so-yes-we have amends to make.”

Zod sighed.

“Had I been in your shoes,” he finally admitted. “I might have done the same.”

Fury laid a hand on Zod’s shoulder.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked.

“There are already too few of us for the planet, and we shall only wane over the years,” the Consul said. “We have heard that Dru Zod carries all of his people in his blood. If there is a way to bring them forth, we would give Tarbhan to them, to _you_ , Dru Zod.”

* * *

Dru Zod had to sit.

The Consul’s offer…

He felt breathless at the magnitude of the gift they were offering him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he looked up at the Consul.

“Say you accept,” the Consul said. “In three generations, or less, we shall be gone. Who, then, shall be this planet’s stewards?”

Zod found he was trembling.

“You really mean this?” His sight was blurring. He was crying like a child at this…most unexpected gift.

 _They're giving my people a home_ …

“Thank you, Consul,’ his voice trembled. “I shall endeavor to make my people worthy of your sacrifice. And I shall make certain they never forget you.”

He would be able to bring Krypton forth now, give them a home. And, maybe he would be able to honor Jor El too…

Jor El _had_ been right.

 _Our lives had been planned out for us from birth and before; every child designed to fill a specific nich in our society_.

Zod had idolized Sul Van his whole life; Sul Van, who had ended the cycle of civil wars by engineering Kryptonian society, designing Kryptonian society to minimize ambition and dreams. Now, Zod knew Sul Van had been wrong.

 _Ambition and dreams have their place in our lives_ …

It was ambition, and dreams that had kept Zod going all these years. Even when all hope had seemed to be lost.

Ambition and dreams would make New Krypton strong.


End file.
